


Trapped

by BIFF1



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anchor!Mason, M/M, full moon madness, super unchill Brett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BIFF1/pseuds/BIFF1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brett and Mason are trapped in a closet during a full moon and Brett is losing his control really quick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

“Are you okay?” Mason asked and honestly the answer is no.

He very much is not all right.

He can’t get them out of here.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He’s glad that Mason can’t hear his heart or smell the panic on him because the moon is heavy and full and rising and he can feel the pull in his veins and they are in a broom closet, close together and he can’t calm down.

“So we’re stuck?” Mason asks, his voice is level. too level.

“It’s mountain ash, I can’t get passed. You’re welcome to try.” He shifts in order to let Mason have access to the door but he doesn’t move, “You don’t want to try the door?” He asks and his tone is too harsh because Mason actually flinches and he feels immediately like shit.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t open the door.” Mason tells him, they are in the dark and he’s sure Mason has forgotten just how well he can see in the dark because Mason has his eye closed tightly, tears are leaking out and another wave of panic hits him.

“Mason… what happened?”

“That thing… I’m fine.” His voice is stiff and Brett pushes his panic aside and can sense the pain radiating off of Mason, its making him sick to his stomach.

“Mason.” He growls, demanding to know what happened, his control is slipping with the rise of the moon and the regular mantra is doing nothing.

_The sun_

_the moon_

_The truth_

It’s like grasping at straws.

He’s sure his eyes must flash because Mason tenses and holds his hand up, “When it grabbed me, I think it broke my wrist.”

“Shit, give me your hand.” Brett tells him, voice raw, he can feel himself bleeding into a monster.

“No.” He can see Mason pull his hand close to his chest and it stabs at him.

“Why not?”

“You’re going to try and take my pain away or something and you need to focus.”

“God, you can tell?”

Mason smiles a little, “You normally don’t have tot talk around your teeth so much. What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, he really doesn’t know what’s wrong. He’s a born wolf, he’s been training his whole life and he’s never had problems before. He feels helpless, he couldn’t protect Mason, all he’d managed to do was get them locked up in a room lined with mountain ash. The room is too small, he wants the forest, he wants the fresh air, he wants to be useless and powerful and he’s none of those things.

He needs out.

“I need out.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“I’m serious Mason- I don’t know how much longer I can stay in control.”

“Do you have an anchor or something?” Mason asks and he knows he can't see him roll his eyes but he does that anyway.

Anchors weren’t the way he had been raised, that was a Hale/McCall pack thing. The closest thing he had to an anchor was the mantra. He had always thought that needed an anchor was something that people with no control needed. He didn’t need an anchor to his humanity.

Well he never had before.

“I don’t have an anchor. I don’t do anchors.” His claws are out, his teeth are prominent and Mason is falling from person, from friend, into the quick heartbeat of pray. He needs out!

He howls, something fierce and raw that rips at him as he claws at the door.

He’s losing it.

_the sun_

He’s losing it.

_the moon_

He’s lost it.

Everything in him is wild and raw and powerful and freaking the hell out, smashing against the door.

“Brett, stop you’ll hurt you-” Mason stops dead as he turns to him, he doesn’t know what Mason sees but what he see’s is a hot body, hot blood thumping loudly in veins begging to be ripped apart.

Brett closes in, the small space makes it impossible for Mason to move away from him.

“Brett, calm down, it’s going to be fine…” He’s breathing softly but the words don’t make much sense. Just his name in the boys mouth had a pleasant reaction, a pull that’s not entirely animal but is mostly.

Brett’s hands are on Mason’s shirt, they rip into the cotton and a new smell hits the air, it’s not fear, it’s something all together different. Something warm and sickly sweet, something hot and clawing at his senses.

Mason leans into him, kissing him softly, and it drives his insides, he grabs onto him harder, pulls him closer, kisses him roughly.

Mason just continues to be soft and gentle, slow touches against him as he grabs at the smaller boys belt. Brett breaks from his mouth, searching for that spot on his neck that he’s sure will make him make wonderfully primal noises.

Mason is whispering, soft, low, hot against his ear.

“I had kind of hoped we could go to dinner first.” Mason kisses him as the words sink into Brett’s canine driven mind.

He grabs Mason’s wrist and he cries out for a moment before the pain floods away from him and up Brett’s arm. The sharp black feelings knock the wolf in him out at least for a little while.

Brett pushes himself away from Mason, still holding onto his wrist, he tries not to notice how much of an emotional mess he is, or that his pants are undone and his shirt is ripped.

“Did you mean that?”

“Mean what? Ow? Yeah, I’d say so-”

“The dinner thing.”

“Oh. That.” Mason looks away from him, “Yeah.”

“You want to go out?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Mason is blushing, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Where.”

“Where?”

“Yeah, where do you want to go?”

They chat about restaurants and how there are no good movies playing for what felt like no time at all but ended up being hours, his hand still wrapped around Mason’s wrist, the pair of them sitting on the floor cramped in together.

Watching Mason move in the dark, listening to the calming nature of his voice he wondered if maybe he had somehow calmed him down on purpose. 

Having an anchor didn’t seem nearly as stupid if the anchor was Mason.


End file.
